Chasing Happy

by Jenni M. Rose

  18

  “Julie.”

  Rosie woke to Max whispering in her ear.

  “Heather. Kayla. Jill.”

  “Jesus,” she mumbled and turned her face into the pillow. “Will you quit it.”

  He’d spent half the night trying to guess her real name like it was a new game. Though telling some of the truth had made her feel lighter, especially when he didn’t get upset and leave her, she was beginning to regret it.

  “Margot, Kristin, Lauren, Alexis.”

  “Rosie.” She tried to put a pillow over her head but he held it away from her. “My name is Rosie.”

  “But it’s not,” he argued.

  She rolled on her back and looked at him through half opened eyes. “If I knew you were going to pursue it, I never would have told you.”

  He pulled back. “Seriously.”

  “Yeah, seriously. I’ve gone out of my way to not be that person. Why would I want to go into details about it?”

  She noticed he was dressed in his work clothes and not in the gym shorts he’d been wearing when they’d gone to sleep. “You’re dressed.”

  He chuckled. “I do that when I go to work. Otherwise, it gets weird.”

  “You’re going to work?”

  “I’ve been at work. For a couple hours.”

  She was startled when Gizmo jumped onto the bed and settled at her feet. She looked to Max.

  “I figured you’d want to run right back to your place to let him out so I just brought him here.”

  She tried to sit up and find a clock, feeling a little bewildered at his forethought and his brazenness. “What time is it?”

  “Nine,” he continued. “But I already talked to my sister and she told me you’re not working today.”

  “I’m not, huh?”

  She covered her mouth with the comforter when he leaned in to kiss her. Was he nuts? He laughed and pressed his lips to her forehead instead.

  “She said you worked enough yesterday and the night before. You’re off until Monday.”

  She spoke to him through he covers. “I have to tell you something.” When he just looked at her, waiting, she spoke again. “It’s serious.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “I’m starving.”

  He laughed.

  “Like chew my own arm off, starving.”

  “That bad?”

  “Like, stranded in the Andes after a plane crash and eating the flesh from my friend’s asses starving.”

  He laughed louder and pulled the comforter off her, kissing her on the lips.

  “You have problems, you know.” He pulled her hands until she was sitting up. “Don’t you ever feed yourself?”

  She shook her head, her white hair falling in her eyes. “Not if I know you’ll be around to do it for me.”

  His voice was further away when he spoke. “You’re so goddamn sexy in the morning.”

  When she looked through her hair he was standing in the doorframe.

  “Then why are you all the way over there?”

  “Because if I get any closer you won’t be eating anytime soon.”

  “Then stay far, far away.” She held up both hands, warding him off.

  “Do I even want to know when you ate last?”

  She screwed up her face, thinking. He’d probably lecture her. “No. Probably not.”

  He turned on his heel with a sigh and called on his way down the hallway. “Get it together, babe. I can get breakfast together pretty quick.”

  Rosie hopped out of bed and went into the bathroom. She had no idea what Max was talking about or who he was looking at when he called her sexy. Leaning closer, she examined herself in the mirror above the sink. Her hair was a mess, like she’d gone through a wind tunnel and her eyes were barely open. She leaned down and splashed some water in her face, then wrapped her hair into bun.

  When she went out into Max’s room she debated putting her jeans and sweater back on but decided to stick with the t-shirt she’d borrowed to sleep in and her undies. She practically skipped down the stairs, feeling young and lighthearted, something that had been foreign to her, until now. She skidded around the corner to the kitchen on a laugh.

  “Now, that’s what I’m talking about.”

  Rosie let out a squeak and grabbed her chest, her heart banging against her ribs. Dallas stood at the kitchen counter holding a cup of coffee and wearing a huge smile. Max was behind him, cooking at the stove. He turned and saw her standing there, not quite as dressed as she normally might be, and Dallas leering at her.

  “Why don’t you sit?” He gestured with his chin to the spot at the counter she usually sat at.

  “I didn’t know you were here,” she said to Dallas who chuckled into his coffee mug as she sat.

  “I got that, though I don’t mind.”

  “Keep your eyes to yourself,” Max warned, sliding a plate of eggs, toast and bacon across the counter to Rosie.

  “I’ll keep my hands to myself, but my eyes? That’s a tall order.”

  “Well, try,” Max told him as he leaned his elbows on the counter across from her.

  She hadn’t been lying when she said she was starving. If she thought about it, she hadn’t eaten at all the day before. She powered through breakfast quickly, piling the bacon and eggs onto the toast a folding it into a little sandwich. She took a few swigs of orange juice, then went back to eating. Max put more eggs on her plate and few more strips of bacon.

  “Mmmhmm.” She mumbled her thank you and kept eating.

  The eggs were the brightest yellow she’d ever seen and they were cooked perfectly. It wasn’t until she shoveled the last bite into her mouth she even noticed, which she regretted. It would have been nice to enjoy the meal while she ate it. Embarrassed, she grabbed her napkin and wiped her mouth. When she looked up Max was smiling and Dallas’s mouth was gaping open.

  “Sorry,” she winced. “I was hungry. Thank you, that was really good.”

  Dallas didn’t move.

  “You’re welcome.” Max’s smile dimmed. “When’d you eat last?”

  She sighed. “Meatballs.”

  She winced again at how stupid that sounded. In her defense, she had been upset. She wasn’t one of those people that ate during times of stress, she was someone who didn’t. It was just how she was built.

  Max stood and threw up his hands. “Jesus.”

  “I was upset,” she defended herself.

  “What’s meatballs?” Dallas butt in.

  “Nothing,” she waved him off.

  “Rosie,” Max voice held a warning tone.

  “I know,” she admitted. “I was just upset.” She turned to Dallas. “What are you doing here?”

  He shrugged. “Just came to hang with Max. See what’s up for tomorrow?”

  She tilted her head. “What’s tomorrow?”

  His eyes got big. “Uh, Thanksgiving.”

  “Oh.”

  “I was gonna ask you last night if you wanted to come with us to my parent’s house but then I took off your shirt and got distracted.” Max told her plainly, grabbbing her plate and bringing it to the sink.

  “Tell me more,” Dallas laughed

  Her face heated. Had he really just said that in front of Dallas? She mentally rolled her eyes. Of course, he had.

  And did she really want to go to Max’s family’s house for a major holiday? Her answer was an unequivocal no. She wasn’t good with families. She’d spend the day like she normally spent holidays, watching parades on her computer and reading. She could remember having a real Thanksgiving twice. Once when she was eight with the Hardy’s and then again when she was nine.

  “Rosie.” Dallas waved a hand in front of her face.

  She sat up straighter. “Huh?”

  “Tomorrow? The Murphy’s?”

  She shook her head immediately and sent them a small smile. “No.” She looked at Max. “Thank you. No.”

  Unfazed, he shrugged and sent her a smile. “Want to feed th
e lamb?”

  Somewhat leery of his reaction she nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

  “Go get dressed. I’ll take you out there.” He looked to Dallas with a slight scowl. “Turn around, at least.”

  She made a quick dash up the stairs, grabbing her bag from the floor of Max’s bedroom and heading into the master bath. As she changed she considered Max’s reaction to her refusal of his invitation. It was suspect. Being the healer he was, it would go against everything he believed in to let he be alone on the holiday. He’d want to fix that for her.

  She sighed, wondering what he might have in store for her. She threw on her jeans and a clean flannel and headed down the stairs, leaving her bag by the front door.

  “Max?” She called, not hearing any noise in the house. When there was no answer she headed through the empty kitchen and out the back door.

  Knowing she was going to be feeding the lamb she hurried to the sheep barn assuming he’d be there, though that wasn’t what she found. Dallas was sitting on the edge of a stack of hay bales, baby bottle in hand, waiting for her.

  “Hi,” she said hesitantly, stopping short in the doorway. She and Dallas had not had the best few weeks. It had been rocky and dramatic, all the things she generally avoided in her life, and she wasn’t sure how to approach him.

  “Hey,” he greeted and held up the bottle. “Max left this for you. The little thing is in the pen over there.” He pointed to the pallet playpen.

  She walked over and looked in at the sleeping lump. “Little thing?” She laughed. “It’s a lamb.”

  “Whatever,” he shrugged. “You know what I meant.”

  She leaned in and picked up the lamb, then held out her hand for the bottle. When he gave it to her, she sat on the floor and began feeding it.

  “How’ve you been?” She asked. Might as well just get it over with, she thought. She liked Dallas. She wanted him to like her too. He was Max’s best friend, it was the least she could do.

  He slid down the wall across from her, looking casual and totally at home. “I’ve been good. You?”

  “Hangin’ in.”

  “Is that good or bad?”

  She tilted her head from side to side. “A little of both.”

  “Been down to the cove again?”

  “No,” she said immediately. “No.”

  He nodded. “So, what all happens down there?”

  “Swimming. Fishing. I suppose you could put in a small boat if you had one.”

  “Ha ha,” he said dryly. “What happens for you?”

  “Hard to explain.”

  “Try,” he urged.

  She took a deep breath. “I lose control. Like I not me anymore and I have no control of what I’m doing anymore.”

  “And it’s a ghost?” He didn’t sound skeptical as much a curious.

  She nodded. “A woman.”

  “From the forties.”

  She searched his face when he spoke. “Are you just humoring me or do you really believe me?

  “Did you really see my grandpa?”

  She nodded.

  “Did he really call me a clod?”

  “After you told me my eyes were freaky.”

  “Ah.” Realization dawned. “That was probably rude.”

  “Probably,” she agreed.

  The lamb finished its bottle and Rosie lowered it to the ground, then snuggled the little animal for a minute before putting it back in the playpen. She wondered why Max had taken it out of the field with the other sheep.

  She turned around and leaned on the wall opposite where Dallas was now standing.

  “You know, I trust Max,” Dallas told her. “If he believes you, then I believe you.”

  She couldn’t blame him for not trusting her word. He didn’t know her from a hole in the wall, though for reasons she couldn’t explain, it still stung.

  “Thanks,” she said anyway.

  “Is this something you really want to pursue?” He asked. “Because I have to be honest with you Rosie, you don’t seem all that excited at the prospect of even talking about this, let alone trying to solve the problem.”

  How could she explain this to him, to anyone? How could they ever understand that solving the problem would, in the end, do nothing for her. Once this ghost passed on there would be another one. There would be no peace for her.

  She was reminded of the woman at the cove who’d said the same thing to her about being in the water.

  But there could be momentary peace, she thought. It didn’t have to be as bad as it was right now, without her other senses.

  “I’d like to just get back to my own twisted version of normal.”

  “Like seeing ghosts?” Dallas asked with a strange half smile, like he couldn’t believe what he’d just said.

  “More like not tying myself to my bed at night so I don’t sleep walk to my death,” she admitted.

  Max’s voice came from the door of the small barn. “You’ve been what?”

  Surprised, she turned to find him staring at her angrily. She held up her hands to pacify him. “A precaution.”

  “You’ve been tying yourself to the bed?” His hands were on his hips and his eyebrows were drawn.

  “That sounds way sexier than it should,” Dallas mused, making her laugh.

  “Don’t make light of it,” Max argued. “If you were that worried, you should have said something.”

  She wanted to argue that she wouldn’t even know how to ask for help, that something like that wasn’t in her nature, but he wouldn’t understand.

  “Okay,” she said plainly.

  “Okay?” Max threw up his hands which made Dallas laugh. “Don’t just say things just to placate me.”

  “I,” she stuttered and looked from Max’s furious expression to Dallas’ humorous one. She’d never seen Max get this angry about anything. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

  “He doesn’t either,” Dallas laughed.

  “Shut up,” Max growled.

  “What? I rarely get to see you this worked up! It’s hilarious.”

  “It’s not hilarious,” Max argued.

  She held up her hands in real apology. “I’m sorry.” She didn’t know what she was sorry for other than making the otherwise even keeled Max upset.

  Max took the few steps to her, grabbed her shoulders and pressed his lips to hers in a searing kiss.

  “Okay, this just got weird,” Dallas said.

  When Max lifted his lips, he was breathing hard and still looked angry.

  “I’m sorry,” she said again.

  He closed his eyes and moved his hands to her cheeks. “You can’t say stuff like that, Rosie.”

  “Like what?” She was truly lost.

  “Like you tie yourself to the bed at night because you’re afraid, instead of just asking for some goddamn help once in a while.”

  “But I,”

  “But you’re so fucking stubborn,” he growled. “When you need help, you call.”

  “But,”

  “When you’re terrified, you call!”

  “Okay.” Dallas’s hand appeared between their faces and he pressed his body between them. Then he turned his back on her and faced Max. “Dude. Get a grip.”

  She stared at Dallas’s back and heard Max take a deep breath.

  In a way, she knew he was right. It was time for her to at least try to put her trust in Max, which was a huge step for her. On the other hand, she hadn’t had to tie herself to the bed in at least a week. Before that, she wouldn’t have felt comfortable calling him for help.

  “Next time I’ll call.” She put a hand on Dallas’s shoulder and tried to press him to the side so she could see Max. “I’ll call.”

  Dallas moved from between them and stood to the side.

  Max looked somewhere between relived and resigned. “You promise?” He asked.

  That stunned her silent and she looked at Max, lost. How could she make him a promise when she didn’t believe in promises?

&nb
sp; “You have to promise. There’s nothing I trust more than a promise,” Max told her, twisting her own words and throwing them back at her.

  Could she do it? Could she be the one to prove to herself that promises could be kept?

  She took a deep breath and jumped off the ledge. “I promise.”

  After the scene in the barn Dallas stopped them outside.

  “Listen, you all have some seriously freaky shit going on here and I don’t want to intrude but I was hoping we could talk about the dead lady.”

  “Jesus, Dallas,” Max muttered.

  “What? You guys want to play out The Notebook all over the place, that’s cool. But I can’t shake that shit from the cove the other day. So, let’s get it all out on the table. Rosie sees dead people. There’s a ghost following her around and driving her nuts. Seems like the bottom line is to try to get rid of it. Right?”

  Rosie shook her head. “Seems simple, right?”

  “I take it, it’s not that easy,” Max said.

  “It could be,” she shrugged. “It’s not like I have conversations with her. I have no idea what she really wants. All I know is she knows I can see her and she’s trying to get my attention.”

  “By dragging you down to the cove all the time,” Max said.

  “I guess.” She pulled a face. “Sometimes she yells at me to help her. But a few times she mentioned helping Jack.”

  “A husband? Son?” Dallas guessed. “Could be anyone.”

  She breathed deep. “I think her husband killed her.”

  Dallas’s head reared back. “Wait, what?”

  “When I saw,” she hesitated and shook her head. There was no easy way to describe what she’d seen. And there was definitely no easy way to forget how closely it had resembled her own experience with her mother. “When I saw her die, there was a man above her squeezing her neck and holding her under the water.”

  Dallas stared at her.

  Max moved to stand behind her, sliding an arm around her chest, and kissed the back of her head.

  “Under the water.” Dallas snapped out of his momentary stupor. “Under the water at the cove? Is that why she keeps bringing you there?”